The Joy of Marriage
by kasura
Summary: Arafinwe and Feanaro discuss Earwen's problem.
1. Default Chapter

The Joy of Marriage

By kasura

Nerdanel twirled down the grand stairway lightly. Her fiery red hair danced behind her back. She hummed a tune; her eyes twinkled like her husband's diamonds. She ventured into the dining room to locate her husband, and found him sitting at the head of the mahogany table, starring down at its polished obsidian top blankly. She sashayed towards him coyly.

*****

Feanaro was reading the paper spreading on the table before him, which was filled bright colorful drawings of various things and objects with numbers. He scowled. Nerdanel had purposely left this last night to warn him. He had arisen out of their bed this morning feeling rather gaily, and spent a good number of hours in his forge pounding at an obstinate piece of bronze. With his body comfortably warmed up from the hammering exercise, he returned to the dining room for brunch and found _this_.

This is the most detested husbandly duty he must performs, worst than washing baby Makalaure's dirty diapers. He dreaded it and resisted it with a passion. Nerdanel's approaching footsteps made his heart pounded faster, his entire body sprouting goose bumps when Nerdanel's soft hand brushed his shoulder. One glance at her sapphire deep eyes, Feanaro melted, but he managed to launch his customary protest.

"Dear, I do not think…." Her dainty hand silenced his words easily when she started caressing his face. Normally Feanaro's famous temper would roast the elf that dare to interrupt him, but Nerdanel has a unique way to containing the foul beast, and vanquishing it by touching the right spot. She was sworn by Feanaro never divulge this secret to another.

She fluttered her dark brown eyelashes at him, her other hand moved to massage his chest, began to persuade him, " Husband, I have been looking forward to this. You would not deny me this wish? " She breathed into his neck. Feanaro felt his resolve quickly dissolving, yet he made a last desperate stand. "What of the children?"

Nerdanel laughed lightheartedly, expecting this counterattack from her husband. "I already made the necessary arrangements." She moved to settle herself on Feanaro's lap; her body nestled close to his chest, enveloping him with her scent of soft lavender. Her wonderful scent had rendered him speechless, so he nodded in acquiescence. The battle has ended, and Nerdanel emerged victorious.

She gave her husband a teasing shove. Grudgingly, Feanaro left his chair, but not before squeezing her waist playfully, which made Nerdanel giggling like a maiden. He went to the stable to bring the horses and tied them to the chariot. When he finished setting up the chariot, he came back to the main hall, and saw an elf maiden talking with Nerdanel.

Nerdanel introduced the maiden, Ellwen, as the babysitter. She called for Maitimo and brought Ellwen to the nursery to see the baby. Maitimo was instructed by Feanaro to behave, and not to pull Ellwen's hair nor put the toad in her dress. Maitimo nodded meekly, but there's a mischievous gleam in his large blue eyes that Feanaro did not like. Before he can further warn Ellwen of his eldest son's wild streak, an impatient Nerdanel dragged him outside the mansion. She was exuding excitement.

They arrived at a white building that's cheerfully decorated in pink and gold strips. Vast green lawns with manicured trees welcoming its visitors. This immaculate, perfect scenery did not uplift Feanaro's gloomy countenance, except depressing his mood further. He does not understand why the females, both maidens and matrons, are constantly imbued with this _affliction_, and that no medicine nor wisdom of the Valar could relieve them. He drove the chariot past the gilded main gate, made a roundabout turn to the west of the building, to a huge stone paved square filled with chariots parked neatly on their allocated blocks. Before entering the square, there was a sign outside that stated "Valet Parking for Tirion Mall customers".

Naturally Feanaro valet parked his chariot. If he has to suffer the humiliation of tagging after his wife in the mall, he might as well enter the inferno in style.

A cheerful brown haired elf in tailored red uniform greeted them. He pulled his parking book out and thumbed through the lots in the book. Frowning, he regretfully informed Feanaro that valet parking might be full.

Feanaro quickly declared "Let us speed home, Nerdanel, the valet said the chariot parking lot is full." He glared at the valet to emphasize his point.

The brave valet quailed under Feanaro's intense gaze, reply timidly, "My…my lord, I uhm, can manage to secure the last …last…spot for you at the corner." _Profit margin, profit margin_, the manager had drilled it to the valet's brain, became the supporting pillar for him to resist surrendering to the Spirit of Fire's unspoken demand. _Never let a potential customer walks away. _

Nerdanel squeezed her husband's arm playfully. "Dear, stop frightening the poor elf, he's only a youngling, and performing his duty." 

Feanaro sighed, handing the rein to the valet's trembling hands while his piercing eyes looked about to flay the elf's skin. The valet almost fainted when he gave Feanaro's parking number. Feanaor scoffed at the piece of paper, as if the entire Tirion couldn't recognize his famous emerald and sapphire encrusted golden peacock chariot.

He escorted Nerdanel to the entrance, was greeted by a giant red banner that announced "Blowout SALE of the Season". The brightness of the banner had hurt his eyes. He glanced at the mall's interior and saw squealing elflings running. Bored elf men trailing behind their energized spouses. Mother chastising their naughty children for misbehaviors. Giggling maidens exclaiming over trinkets and bolts of fabrics. Desperate bachelors wandering around the shops hoping they could attract some maidens' eyes.

Beside the crowd, Feanaro found the mall's decoration offensive. This place was draped in slogans that encourage this deviant behavior: _Presents for Begetting Day_, _Gifts for everlasting friendships, Gifts for Wedding Anniversary. _He ought to have a serious talk with the mall manager.

Nerdanel announced her first target is women's gown shop. She forcibly pulled Feanaro to the place. Eight or nine elf women were busily sorting through the sales racks. Their sad looking male counterparts were standing at the side watching babies or shopping bags.

"Look at all the gorgeous gowns on sale! I have to browse them all, and try some of them." She went to the first rack, scrutinizing the gowns with the concentration she afford her creations in her forge. Feanaro complained. "Nerdanel, I don't understand why you need to shop. You can make all the things here at home, and splendid are your weavings and sewing." Nerdanel replied tartly " Well, Feanaro, there is a difference between making your own things and spending money. Sometimes I enjoy the fruits of others' hard labor. I think of it as a reward for me."

Feanaro threw his hands up in defeat. _Females_.

The store manager glided to Nerdanel and greeted her with a dazzling smile. She pulled a silver white gown with butterfly sleeves and two rows of iridescent pearls at the hem to recommend it to Nerdanel. Nerdanel turned to Feanaro and inquired his opinion of the dress. Feanaro derided, "The hemline is shoddily sewed together, the fabric is light but not soft enough, I wager the silk treads would unravel after a few washes." The store manager protested, clarifying the store carries quality dresses manufactured by the finest craftsmen. Even the High Queen herself was impressed with their stock, and became a store regular. The mention of Indis' name goaded Feanaro into a heated debate with the manager, but was stopped in short by a pinch from Nerdanel on his arm. She carried on unfazed, successfully purchased a gown despite several snickering comments regarding the workmanship from her husband at her previous choices.

Exiting the shop with embarrassment, Nerdanel instructed Feanaro to keep his opinions to himself. Feanaro took the shopping bag quietly, dourly tagging after his wife. They visited other shops next to the gown shop with less drama until one elfling accidentally ran into Feanaro, chased by his older brother in a game. The mother apologized profusely, dragged her squealing child away from the Spirit of Fire. Feanaro's face was in ripe with indignation. He almost bellowed out to the mother on the virtue of responsibility when Nerdanel sent the women and her naughty child off with a smile, commenting that no damage had been done.

She sent a withering glance to her husband, which miraculously controlled his temper. He trod behind her to the jewelry shop. Once in they were in the shop, Feanaro truly let his caustic talent rip. He saw the piece Nerdanel was fingering and sneered- _I make better diamond than that!_ Not a jewel in the shop escaped his scathing eyes. Nerdanel's face was red from mortification at Feanaro's witty recommendations for each jewels smith's skill improvement. She hurriedly exited the shop hauling a gleeful Feanaro.

Angered by Feanaro's continual rebellious behavior, she deposited him in the mall's waiting lounge, also known as men's haunt, left her bags for him to watch and told him to wait there until she's done. Feanaro grunted in response. Truly he found this temporary imprisonment more pleasant than suppressing his sound opinions to his wife and watching her indulging her deviant activity.

The place was packed with men and shopping bags. Fortunately the couches were comfortably, food and drinks were served on the table along with books and above all, no encouraging shopping slogans to sabotage these men's tired eyes. Feanaro settled on his spot comfortably while casting a hard glance at the surrounding elves to warn them not to encroach too closely to him. The elves huddled in groups, quickly struck a conversation on their wives, children, professions and silly topics like who's the sexiest elf and whose breech got blown away by wind during sailing

Feanaro was reading a book on ant society when he was greeted by a familiar distasteful presence, his half brother. Poor Nolofinwe was heaving under thirty full shopping bags. He dropped them down all at once, and fell down to the couch, panting. Feanaro put a sympathetic face onward, but inside he's enjoying Nolofinwe's distress. The degree of Nolofinwe's suffering has not warranted Feanaro to be generous.

Nolofinwe was relieved at seeing a familiar face, despite it's his rival. He started to complain of Anaire's crazed shopping rampage. They already spent four hours in the mall, and she's still not fatigued. He told Feanaro that Anaire had discovered Nerdanel and pointed to his half-brother where Nerdanel and Anaire were cooing over their spoils. Both men moped. They could not fathom when their wives will be finished now they've became shopping partners.

Facing with a longer sentence, Feanaro ranted on the evil of shopping mall. Nolofinwe agreed wholeheartedly. This is the first time he and his half-brother shared the same opinion and expression. If this sentiment lasts beyond the white building they labeled Udun, the entire conflict of the Noldor is easily resolved.

At the corner of his eyes, Feanaro detected his father sweeping through the entrance with a delighted Indis at his arm. _Not even the High King of the Noldor is safe from this affliction. _

Finwe soon appeared at the lounge. He was surprised to find two of his sons lounging there but nodded in understanding. Finwe inquired Feanaro first then Nolofinwe. He asked his sons to partake in the refreshment on the table, and recounting the tales of each son's youth. Nolofinwe blushed when Finwe mentioned he had enjoyed dancing in the palace fountain naked when he was five year's old. The servant maids loved to pinch his chubby behind. Feanaro kept a somber face, but he was reeling inside with laughter. Not a moment was Finwe lax in repairing the relationship between his sons. Finwe then lapsed into more warm tales of yonder years.

This amiable familial socialization was grazing on Feanaro's nerves. In the presence of his beloved father, he was forced to be pleasant to Nolofinwe. He lost the count of time, hoping to see a lovely fiery hair in the crowd of women returning to collect their husbands to excuse him from these small talks.

***

Indeed she has returned triumphantly after some time with armful of booty. With the shopping bags in tow, Feanaro was paroled to ready the chariot. He walked out of the building's doors to the parking lot, took a deep breath of the fresh air, and was glad he'd survived this experience. What he didn't understand was that no married males, including his half-brothers, father, nephews, sons, grandnephews, first cousins, twice-removed cousins and men unborn could escape this inevitable terror that comes with marriage.


	2. Chapter 2

The Joy of Marriage - The Cure...

Arafinwe busted through the magnificent bronze front doors in a huff, his pointy ears drooped a little. While he took a breather to recover from his frazzled state, Feanaro eyed his youngest half brother warily- Tis not usual that Arafinwe would venture out of his comfort zone just to drop by for a social chat.

Feanaro on his good days usually coolly ignored this golden haired Vanya poser; on the bad days, let's just say that Arafinwe is on the receiving end of his infamous tirade as often as Nolofinwe. Preempting any request of favor, Feanaro blurted out, in his harshest voice, "I am busy, too busy for any useless chit chat, so please remove yourself from the premise and go whine to your full blooded brother." Adding on a good dosage of feral expression and smoldering eyes to ensure this trespassing half-blood get the hint.

"Aye, Feanaro, brother, if it's that simple I would not have importune you with an ill-time visit, but I have pressing matter on my hand and the delicacy of it requires finesse handlings from the best minds…." Arafinwe babbled on, pouring his worries out without a care, content to find an outlet.

"If this concerns Findarato choking on the fibers from the rug, then talk to my wife, she's…." Feanaro turned around to survey his sumptuous mansion, _Where's that dratted woman??, _"not around……._" Oh Eru, I'm stuck here with my unwanted brother, probably want to share feelings, talk about emotions and rubbish, I am getting desperate by the minute. None of my progeny are around either to distract their 'uncle', what are sons good for, I wonder…._

Struggling with words, or trying to reining his torturous expressions, " It's…It's…a matter of great importance concerning Earwen's affliction." Large, innocents blue eyes widened, brimming with tears that threatened to slide down the pale soft cheeks, "I'm at my wits end. Nolofinwe is equally helpless. he claimed his esteemed wife is equally affected. He is at an loss in finding a cure for his beloved."

"Since you're the greatest quendi, I figure you have some sort of solution or have the disposition to discover a cure instantly…" the golden prince resorted to buttering up his difficult brother. Things can't be worse than what it is now. He needed any help he could get, even if it is going to the lion to be devour by it in anger.

So he put on his most naïve, trusting appearance and supplicant to his older brother, humbly lowered his elegant face down for a scolding, for being a bother to the greatest mind.

Groaning outwardly, Feanaro wasn't fooled by his brother's tactics for one second, "I will never be rid of you without answering your questions. So be it." Deflated, the Spirit of Fire perched down on his comfy mahogany chair, readied his pointy ears for a tiresome onslaught of woes and plights, the usual things that Indis' brat whined about. _He was so looking forward to thumbing through the catalogues in his short respite from the forge_, his inner voice nattered.

"Speak, what are her symptoms?" he commanded imperiously.

With an earnest expression, Arafinwe advanced to his brother's side, his golden head bowed slightly. "I had not noticed Earwen is prone to the attraction of images with numbers on them. To me they are just papers but she absolutely is enamored with them. Most of the time, she hyperventilated after receiving a pile of papers dumped on our front door. And if I did not correspond to her excited state I received a very pointed disproval look from her face, it's as if the entire Arda is about to fall into the realm of blight evil. Nevertheless, a very generous purse overstuffed with gold coins followed by the proffer service of bag carrying always cheers her up, retaining myself in her grace once again. So, plainly speaking, I caved and abided by her dictions, meekly following her wherever she goes without analyzing the root cause of this affliction." The golden haired prince scratched his head in puzzlement, obviously confused by what women want.

Sighed. Feanaro spoke after a brief period of uncomfortable silence, opened up to admit a tiny weakness in the fabric of his erudite life to his lackluster half brother. Nodding in agreement, he spoke with great wisdom.

"Nerdanel has the same problem…I just ignore it to the best of my ability. The sacrifice we have to bear is nothing comparing to the peace and tranquility of a sane, well-managed household. I have learn to live with it, so shall you, Arafinwe, if you want to retain the sanctity of your mind."

Feeling wretched, to be diminished to this by his wife, the eldest son of Finwe snarled. A kindred camaraderie in misery was kindled between the half brothers.

"But her symptoms progressed furthermore to the next level, where I surmised Earwen is in a dire condition. She has fallen into a malady, a desolation brought on by her inability to find satisfaction in merely following the paper trail of pamphlets with numbers. Even the late proliferation of these wretched publications so called 'Season's End Sale' has not uplifted her foul humor. Oh how I wish to revert back to our domestic felicity, of the joy of sharing our minds, sampling life's little delights such as planting roses, slowly preparing delicious food from gourmet recipes, flecking rice off to the circling sea gulls..yadda..yadda…yadda."

Aha, Feanaro knew the resolution to his half brother's problem and the perfect tool for the solution. How lucky for Arafinwe that Nerdanel was not too keen on saving it. She already delved into another level of corrupted consumption, that this little device would sate her desires no more. So be it…..

"BEHOLD!! The wondrous object I decide to bestow on you to miraculously cure your wife's malady instantaneously…." Feanaro's voice boomed, interrupting the distraught youngest half brother's protracted soliloquy.

Arafinwe looked at it reverently, his elegant white hands poised eagerly to receive and caress it.

This relic is a platinum club card from Alqualonde Mirage Outlet. The most exclusive, coveted Platinum Card with sparkly diamonds lined in starburst formation on the card, centering the card is a twinkling sea shell shaped from purple adamant, exuding warmth and soothing delights. The lights radiated from the collected gems were blinding, but also inviting, basking its owner in their special magic, making chosen one feels privileged to carry it around and whip out in a clique gathering for friends to ogle, which is exactly what the creator of it had intended. Only 100 of these cards were issued in the entire Valinor. Let's not get into the rhetoric of how Nerdanel had obtained this coveted symbol of ultimate consumption in the first place; she certainly has extorted it out of her extensive connections.

The golden prince was floored from receiving such a grand gift that he was ready to profess eternal love and devotion to his estranged brother. Ready to heap on thanks, he exclaimed, "By Eru, thou are the grandest, greatest Elda ever lived. If I shall have say in the matters of importance, thy image shall be elated by the purest marble form, then erected out on the forum center for all to worship!! How can I ever thank thee enough!! No deed is as generous and good as thou have done effortless now to ensure the harmony of thou dear brother's household." After much genuflection and bowing, Arafinwe was on his merry way with the precious, shining card safely tucked into his pocket sleeve. He can't wait to uplift his dear wife's foul moods.

Feanaro was finally left in quiet peacefulness, which he took advantage of by sinking down further to his chair with a book covering his elegant face ready to fall into a restorative nap. The bombardment of angst and woes coming from his 2nd least favorite half sibling was overwhelming his sensitive nerves. As he welcomed Lorien's dreams, and tranquility befell his household, he did have an epiphany: this is the closet bonding Feanaro would ever experience with Arafinwe. Even under torture he would deny he possessed a minute tenderness in his heart for his youngest half brother for a fleeting minute.


End file.
